


those without merit

by Neko-no-Tsuki (LunaKat)



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Backstory, Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Gen, Minor Character Death, Mother-Son Relationship, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:35:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26641549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaKat/pseuds/Neko-no-Tsuki
Summary: For Inuyasha Sins Week. Day 5: Pride.He can’t let Mother know he’s miserable. He has his pride, after all.
Relationships: InuYasha & Izayoi (InuYasha)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21
Collections: Inuyasha's Seven Deadly Sins





	those without merit

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings for physical and emotional abuse to young children.

_“Arrogance on the part of the meritorious is even more offensive to us than the arrogance of **those without merit** : for merit itself is offensive.”_  
—Friedrich Nietzsche

The Tachibana Clan are one of immeasurable standing.

Back in the days when the Royal Family still occupied their throne in the capital, the Tachibana were among the high clans that stood alongside them. Daughters of their proud house married the Emperor, bore him children and heirs, heavily mixed their meritorious lineage with that of the heaven-blessed. They held great power in the court, were among those whose power sprawled across the land, with a shining reputation that preceded every graceful footstep. In those days, they practically stood at the world’s highest peak.

Their power did not last. Their influence was destined to wane while the Fujiwara rose to prominence. And tragically, their noble status was lost before the monarchy fell. They were left scattered across the lands they once ruled from the zeniths, disgraced.

Even disgraced, they still have their pride.

It is because of that very pride that they despise Inuyasha so. Not that he knows it yet.

Unlike his cousins, he doesn’t get educated in the clan’s history. Has no private tutors to instruct him on all things proper, who force him to memorize lineage-lines and family branches. No one tells him that he’s carrying the future of their proud legacy on his shoulders. If he’s caught anywhere near the lesson rooms, the servants chase him off—afterwards, the portions of his and Mother’s meals shrink for a while.

Mother teaches him some things. In the privacy of their quarters on the far side of the property, no one can chase him away. She coaches him in the written word, grammar and pronunciation. She tries to impart the art of careful brushstrokes on paper, but the ink gives him a headache and the brushes aren’t made for being gripped by claw-tipped fingers.

When he’s alone in the courtyard, he’ll sometimes trace the kanji of his name into the dirt. Admires the precision that he can achieve with his claws and fingers alone.

This lasts until one cousin of his—some boy barely younger than he is—comes along and kicks his handiwork away.

* * *

Once he’s older, Inuyasha will learn that most castles aren’t built like the Tachibana’s. Their castle is all gilded roofs and ivory gates and no armaments, more ornament than fortress. The courtyard is so vast you’d lose your breath before you crossed from one side to the other, the beautifully green garden cupping a seemingly endless koi pond in its center. Several branches of the family sleep beneath the same roof—uncles and aunts and cousins, concubines and wives and children, servants and guards and samurai retainers. A single, massive room in the center is dedicated entirely to simulating the royal court of old. Because even without their status, the Tachibana’s have their pride, and this branch has their fortune to boot.

He doesn’t know this yet. All he knows is that he’s not allowed inside the main building unless he’s cleaning up after his cousins. That his and Mother’s home is a cramped little building separate from even the servants. That they have one attending servant who refuses to acknowledge his existence. That his cousins don’t get looks thrown their way that make them feel inexplicably small for reasons they can’t name.

He knows that Mother is the first-born daughter of Lord Tachibana’s first wife (which would mean something if he hadn’t been born). She wears a noblewoman’s clothes, but the robes are frayed and faded from age beneath the outermost layer, and, unlike her sisters, she has to brush her own hair and apply her own makeup.

There’s a long, long list of things he doesn’t know, because he’s content to run around the courtyard and climb trees and chase butterflies for the fun of it. He doesn’t know that there’s something wrong with the way they’re living.

Sometimes, when the adults aren’t around to send him scornful looks, his cousins will deign to have him as a playmate. They throw things across the courtyard—usually stick-like objects or balls—and ask him to bring them back. The only rules are that he has to use his mouth and run on all fours and he has to bark instead of talk. It’s a little annoying, but it makes them laugh and smile, so he tries not to mind so much.

He doesn’t know it yet, what it is. He doesn’t understand the way his mother’s smile tightens on her face when he tells her about it.

_Are you having fun?_

_Of course!_

So she never says anything. Just kisses his forehead and tries to be happy for him.

If his cousins are caught anywhere near him, even to play their games, they get scolded about dignity and propriety and the Tachibana reputation. Inuyasha doesn’t understand why being around him isn’t something to be proud of—after all, the Tachibana are all about familial pride, and he’s one of the Tachibana too.

Isn’t he?

* * *

Because he’s young and clumsy, there are times when he’ll break things. It’s never on purpose, and never anything that can’t be replaced, but it doesn’t really matter.

His punishments are dealt out in a secluded corner of the courtyard, far away from prying eyes. Unsightly things are not meant to occur on the same ground where nobles tread. The fierce crack of the horsewhip takes place far away from the delicate ears of aristocrats. Inuyasha has grown up in a world where pride is of the utmost importance, so he smothers his screams behind clenched teeth and buries his face into the ground until the soil grows salty-wet with tears.

When the retainer is done, he drops the whip in the grass as though it’s been tainted. _Disgraceful_ , he spits, delivering a swift kick to his torn-up back and then walking away.

Inuyasha is left to gnaw through the ropes binding his wrists on his own, blood cooling on his back. All the while, he scrubs at his eyes until they burn too badly to spill over and mutters with no one around to hear him, _You’re wrong. I’m not a disgrace. I’m a Tachibana. I have my pride too._

He doesn’t realize the retainer wasn’t talking about his tears.

* * *

After the marks on his back have closed up, and the pain subsided enough that he can keep himself from wincing when touched, he shrugs on his discarded clothes to cover the evidence and stumbles back to his mother. At the time, he thinks he’s being clever. He thinks he’s protecting her like any good son ought to, that what he’s doing is admirable and selfless and something to be proud of.

He doesn’t realize she already knows. He doesn’t realize she’s already crying for him.

* * *

The first time he realizes something is wrong is while he’s “playing” with his cousins. After having run back and forth across the courtyard dozens of times, left panting while his legs ache, he drops the stick at their feet instead of at the respectful distance he usually does. And instead of giving an endearing mock-bark like they want him to, he wonders if maybe, this time, he can be the one to throw the stick.

The next thing Inuyasha knows, he’s on the ground, a shoeprint throbbing on his face. Blood wetting its way down to his chin from a crushed nose. Above him, an older cousin sneers, _Dogs don’t **talk** , stupid!_

Oh.

* * *

The Tachibana are not the sort to take anything lying down. To do so is a coward’s way, and the Tachibana are too proud to tolerate a coward in their midst. If such behaviors crop up among their young, they are swiftly punished.

With this in mind, Inuyasha does not run when he notices a gaggle of his older cousins nearing him with large sticks in hand, whispering plans to discipline him like a misbehaved mutt. When the first stone is thrown, he bares his fangs the way any self-respecting predator would when their honor is challenged.

Even with their numbers, the boys freeze, suddenly uncertain. For all their pride (arrogance), they lack the courage to approach him one-on-one. When he runs forward to meet their challenge, they scatter in fright.

One boy is brave enough to tackle him to the ground from behind. When Inuyasha pushes him off, he does so hard enough to leave bruises.

He does so only to defend his honor, his dignity, like any proud member of the Tachibana family should.

He doesn’t understand why this makes everything worse.

* * *

_Mother?_

_Yes, darling?_

A hesitation in the dark. The moonless night pressing in through the windows. Shadows falling heavy, thicker than blood.

_...it’s okay for me to be proud, too, isn’t it?_

_Well of course. But, er... proud of what, exactly?_

Something. Anything. Who even knows anymore.

_...never mind. Forget it._

* * *

One of his cousins—a vibrant young girl on the cusp of womanhood—decides to toss away her noble pride in exchange for clandestine nights spent with the stableboy. When she is caught with mussed hair and passion-swollen lips, she does the only logical thing she can think of to salvage her dignity.

The dirt and virginal blood on her robes, she says, are to be blamed on the unwelcome creature living in their family’s courtyard. The half-breed whose very existence pushes at the great clan’s generosity with each day and each breath.

Importantly, Inuyasha is just barely nine, at this point. He’s still a child, he doesn’t know this cousin, he doesn’t know what virginal blood even _is_.

It doesn’t matter. The pride of the Tachibana has been insulted. And that demands justice.

Mother uses their meager furniture to barricade the door. The walls rattle beneath the wrath of aunts and uncles who demand Inuyasha’s head on a pike. He cowers in the corner of his home as they pound on the door, all through the night, shaking in his mother’s arms and wondering what he did wrong.

This doesn’t feel like something to be proud of.

* * *

It is a full day before the pounding finally stops, comes to an abrupt and untrustworthy halt. Wisely, they do not come out, much less move the barricade. Two days pass in uneasy quiet. Their quarters have no food save for the herbal brews that Mother keeps fermenting in jars, which is entirely unpleasant to eat if there’s no medical emergency.

Inuyasha wraps his arms around his middle in a vain attempt to quiet the growling in his stomach. He can’t let Mother know he’s miserable. He has his pride, after all.

Then, finally, there is a knock at the door. Timid, tentative. Too shy to be a Tachibana—their pride is too bright and booming to ever muster such politeness. The voice that coos through the walls is that of Mother’s lone servant.

Reluctantly, skeptically, Mother dismantles the barricade. The door opens to the servant standing there with a too-wide smile on her face and two bowls of steaming broth in hand, saying she managed to sneak something out from the kitchen just for the lady. He sees, now, how the servant makes a point of not looking at him.

With a forced smile, Mother accepts the offer. She closes the door and sets the barricade back up before she even considers touching the food. By then, it’s gone cold, but it’s the principle that’s important. She has her pride, after all.

It smells kind of funny, Inuyasha notices absently, though he’s too hungry to care. Still, he notices the reverent way Mother cups her bowl and, after a shamefully long hesitation, offers up his.

_Are you sure, dear?_

_Yeah. It’s okay. I’m not hungry._

Lies aren’t something to be proud of, but it’s not like he has anything to be proud of in the first place. Besides, she’s human, and that means she’s more fragile than he is. He can endure things she can’t.

The smile that breaks across her face is bright and genuine in a way the rest of their family never has been. Tachibana though they both may be, there’s no need for pride or pretenses between them.

* * *

That night, Inuyasha wakes to freshly righteous pounding on the walls. He bolts upright, fear throbbing anew in his veins. His eyes are wide in the dark as he watches the makeshift barricade shake under some unknown battering. With far too much resignation for someone who hasn’t even seen their tenth year, he realizes they intend to break the door down.

With a whimper, he snuggles closer to his mother. Tries to find some warmth in the cold, breathe her scent in through the stillness. Squeezes his eyes shut and tries to hone in on the sound of her heartbeat, just to make the world go away for a bit.

Bang. Bang. Bang. It’s thunder of a different kind, but the storm has broken all the same. He can’t be scared. For Mother’s sake.

His eyes snap open. He sits up, blinking, uncomprehending. Gently shakes her shoulder.

_...Mother?_

She’s cold.

No sooner has he realized this than the furniture finally topples. Barricade broken, armed retainers spill in like a great tide, the blades of their naginatas gleaming silver as moonlit crescent. There is shouting and demands, someone pointing a weapon at his face. Inuyasha doesn’t hear them, doesn’t notice. He sits there and stares, numb.

It isn’t until someone grabs him roughly by the hair that he remembers the soup. The funny smell of it. The fact that Mother had his portion, too.

By the time he realizes, it’s too late. They’ve already yanked him out of the house, dragged him out the door before he even had the presence of mind to protest.

The last he sees of Mother is her back—the long spill of black hair, the rigidity in her spine, the way she faces the back wall like she’s ashamed—just before her relatives close in from all sides, block his view with their proud and noble shoulders, to mourn their disgraced kin.

* * *

The gates are deafening as they rumble closed behind him.

Inuyasha is breathing hard, heart pounding wildly in his not-human ears. Twisting around, he stares at the Tachibana crest imprinted upon the wooden doors. A ripe orange blooming within a gilded circle, leaves curling outward as though reaching for something better.

Hysterically, he imagines himself pounding his fists against the gate. Scratching up the wood beneath his claws and snarling for them to let him back in, let him in, that’s his _mother_ , they can’t _do this_ —

They can’t—

They _couldn’t_ _have_...

It isn’t until then that he realizes his eyes are burning. Inuyasha sniffs and wipes furiously at his eyes until they burn, reminding himself that he can’t cry, he can’t cry, Tachibana don’t cry.

No. Not Tachibana. _Youkai_.

Youkai don’t cry.

He doesn’t end up screaming, or pounding at the gate, or destroying the crest on the wood. Instead he just glares at the gilded roofs of the castle until day breaks. Then, he turns away, vowing that he needs nothing from them, wants nothing from them. Would rather die than beg for mercy, for the slim chance they might allow him to see Mother again—as though it’s something they can give and take as they please.

No, he won’t stoop that low. Even disgraced, he still has his pride.

So with another shaky breath, Inuyasha turns away and forges off into the world. Alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Fanon: Inuyasha's mom died from an illness.
> 
> Me: Okay, but what if...


End file.
